


Trouble

by genevievedarcygranger



Series: Hotch x Reader / Hotch x You [24]
Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: Coming In Pants, Coming Untouched, Cunnilingus, Day 22 Kinktober, Day 22 Kinktober 2020, Day 22 Kinktober 2020: Oral, Day 22 Kinktober: Oral, Day Twenty Two, Day Twenty Two Kinktober, Day Twenty Two Kinktober 2020, Day Twenty Two Kinktober 2020: Oral, Day Twenty Two Kinktober: Oral, Day Twenty-Two, Day Twenty-Two Kinktober, Day Twenty-Two Kinktober 2020, Day Twenty-Two Kinktober 2020: Oral, Day Twenty-Two Kinktober: Oral, Established Relationship, F/M, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Humor, Kinktober, Kinktober 2020, Kinktober 2020: Oral, Kinktober: Oral, Multiple Orgasms, Office Sex, One Shot, Oral Sex, POV Second Person, Prompt: Oral, Reader-Insert, Shameless Smut, Short One Shot, Smut, Song Lyrics, Song: Trouble (Halsey), Squirting, Vaginal, day 22
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-02
Updated: 2020-11-02
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:48:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27346111
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/genevievedarcygranger/pseuds/genevievedarcygranger
Summary: Hotch pulls you into his office to give you a tongue-lashing and cause a little trouble.
Relationships: Aaron Hotchner/Reader, Aaron Hotchner/You
Series: Hotch x Reader / Hotch x You [24]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1862236
Kudos: 82





	Trouble

_“Let's cause a little trouble,_

_Oh, you make me feel so weak,”_

\- “Trouble,” _Halsey_

* * *

You really hit the jackpot when it came to Hotch. He was the textbook perfect boyfriend. In the mornings, he’d bring you coffee. Since he was a profiler, he always noticed if you did something new with your hair or clothes. He was a wonderful father, and it was adorable watching him with Jack. His one drawback was his workaholic nature, but since you worked with him and you were bit of a workaholic yourself, it worked out.

Because you were both workaholics, though, that usually meant that your sex life – in order to survive – had to expand outside of the bedroom. While initially, there was some resistance about office sex, particularly from Hotch whose paranoia came deep when it came to Strauss (and rightly so considering Emily), you both soon got over that. There was way too much sexual tension between you to resist, and you both found that if you went too long without fucking it out of your system, your work suffered. It seemed that you and Hotch distracted each other. Well, neither of you complained.

This would have never have worked if it weren’t for Hotch having an office. It was the place you both retired to on the late nights where Hotch poured himself into paperwork. It was where you both headed right after hopping off the jet. It was his office where you’d sneak in for a quick lunch or just to check in how he was doing. And it was where you were now on the rare occasion where Hotch would call you in for trouble.

The team teased you about what a troublemaker you were, but if they knew the truth… well, they wouldn’t be that far from the truth. Hotch called you in, only to sit you on top of his desk – on top of his very important paperwork that was supposed to go directly into Strauss’s hands – and pull your pants and underwear down to your ankles. “Hotch?” You asked, still in work-mode.

“I have been thinking about tasting you all day,” he practically growled as he pushed his chair aside and dropped to his knees before you. He crawled forward before having to stop and take your pants and underwear off completely so you could wedge his broad shoulders between your spread legs. “I can’t concentrate,” he broke off with another growl, “I have to taste you.”

You dropped your hands down to the desk as Hotch yanked you to the edge by the grip he had on your ankles. “Oh,” you said, nearly at a loss for words. By all means, you should have been surprised, but Hotch still found ways to excite you. “Don’t let me stop you.”

How you managed to snag a man who loved to give oral more than receive it, you’ll never know. But if asked, you would say that you for sure earned it considering the hell he put you through every other case risking life and neck. The danger of your job was practically non-existent now, though, except for that bone-deep thrill of getting caught.

And it was very likely you could get caught, not only because of the bullpen full of profilers outside, but also because Anderson had a tendency to walk in and you had the tendency to get loud. That blame rested solely on Hotch’s shoulders, which you currently had your thighs thrown over.

Smoothing his large palms on the outside of your legs, Hotch dipped his face forward and inhaled your musk. Even though he was the one that’s been hard and leaky in his slacks for the past hour, you were quickly approaching his level of arousal as well. He looked up at you, his brown eyes soft with pupils blown wide open, and then his tongue was softly flicking over your slit.

At the soft touch, you moaned. Hotch was such a soft touch when it came to you. Though you looked away, your eyes falling shut in pleasure, Hotch kept his gaze trained on your face as his tongue languidly dragged over you, peeling you open until your clit peeked out from underneath its hood. His tongue avoided it at first as he drew circles around it, but then he couldn’t hold himself back anymore.

As soon as his lips wrapped around your clit, your fingers curled over the edge of the desk and your moans increased slightly in volume. Hotch should have drew back, should have warned you to be quiet, but he loved the noises you made too much. Instead, he worried your clit with his teeth and drew an orgasm from you without ever having to use his fingers at all.

With your orgasm racking through your body, you forced your fingers to uncurl and grasp Hotch’s dark locks instead. They were stiff with gel, but your fingers cut through it as you pushed his face against your cunt and rocked your hips forward to ride him and your pleasure out. But Hotch was far from finished with you.

Momentarily abandoning your clit, Hotch dipped down until his tongue could lap the fresh juices from your entrance. His nose brushed against your clit, but for the most part avoided it so that you wouldn’t get overstimulated. As the aftershocks of your orgasm died down, Hotch started pushing his tongue deeper and deeper inside your entrance with every swipe. In the wake of your orgasm, your channel throbbed and tried to greedily grip anything it could. Hotch’s tongue pushed deeper inside, searching for your g-spot.

While he didn’t have a particularly long tongue, Hotch knew your body well by now. He knew that after you came from your clit, it was easier for you to come from the internal stimulation. Moreover, if he managed to get you to come a second time, the third time would have you squirting. In fact, he was counting on it.

Sure enough, your second orgasm passed through your body, a little weaker than the first, but just as electrifying. This time it stayed with you much longer, causing your toes to crack from the force of their curl and your thighs to quiver uncontrollable. “Fuck, Aaron,” you grunted, bringing one hand up to your mouth to belatedly stifle your noise, “You’re gonna give me a fuckin’ Charlie Horse.”

Snorting, Hotch dragged his hands down your legs and blindly massaged your thighs. His mouth didn’t stop its hard work on your pussy. He dutifully drank up every drop you had to offer, and yet he still wanted more. “Fuck, I love this,” he said, more to your pussy than to anyone else. “I love the taste of you better when its my come dripping from your cunt.”

In retribution and to get him back on track, you yanked at his hair with the hand you still had on his head. “No time for that. I’m afraid somebody has already heard us.” Apologetically, you smoothed his hair down, even though you would just be messing it up again in the next minute. “Besides, we should really be more careful. You’ve got to keep some condoms in here.”

“I’ll make a note of it.” Then his tongue was on you again, and the conversation momentarily lapsed as you went back to moaning. You had to bury three fingers in your mouth up to the second knuckle, your front teeth scraping at the skin, to bring your volume back down.

Still, your attempts at volume control were made in vain as Hotch pulled a third orgasm from you, still without use of his fingers. Just as he predicted, this time you squirted on his face, most of your release splashing down his chin. As your moaned around your fingers, Hotch had to bury his groans in your thighs.

You were still shaking from the force of the release when you noticed that Hotch was winding down. His mouth skirted around your pussy, and rather than using tongue, he just dragged his lips over you in lazy kisses. If he was attempting to clean up the mess, well, the effort was admirable but useless. Pushing his bangs off of his forehead, you used the heel of your palm to push him away from your overworked, overwrought pussy so you could see his face.

He was a mess. Hotch looked like he’d been out running with as wet his face was, but it obviously wasn’t sweat. He was breathing heavily, too, to match. The whole office stank of sex, and when you shifted, you noticed a cool, dampness on the desk as the papers stuck to the bare skin of your ass.

“That enough for you?” You asked, trying to shift back into work-mode again.

Hotch was in a similar state, his soft eyes slowly hardening up again like tree sap left to cool into amber in the shadows. “I’m…” He licked his kiss-swollen lips. “For now.” Using his red tie, one he had duplicates of, he wiped away the excess moisture on his face. At your look of admonishment, he waved it off. “I have another tie in my drawer somewhere.”

“Oh? What about a towel?”

“…no, but that is a good idea. Towels and condoms for the office if we’re gonna keep doing this.”

“We are.” Your tone brooked no argument. “What about your go-bag? Any towels in there?”

Hotch’s glance was very guilty as his brown eyes flickered to the black duffle bag. “No, but I could use something else.”

“Please do or everyone will know.” With a grimace, you shifted again. Your left leg was starting to go numb from this position. Hotch’s desk was very hard. You shifted to relieve the ache, and the papers shuffled underneath you. “Well, Strauss might find out if she has the balls to confront you about the pussy juices drying on these papers.”

Stone-faced as ever, Hotch took his time grabbing a spare sleep shirt from his bag that he used to tenderly wipe up and down your legs and then at the apex of your thighs. “I’ll just draw up some others and shred those.”

Shaking your head at him, you sighed. “Maybe you’ll be able to concentrate now that you’ve had your fill of me.”

He shot you a sharp look which did not match the tenderness of his actions as he guided your feet through the leg holes of your underwear and slacks. Then he dropped his eyes to your pussy again before he placed a sweet kiss on your pubic bone. “I could never get enough of you.”

A smile broke out across your face. “Oh, baby…” You trailed off, squinting at his lap. “Is that…is that a wet spot on your slacks?”

The blush that rose on Hotch’s cheeks was all the answer you needed.

Still smiling, though it was wider than before, you asked, “As good for you as it was for me, huh? Hope you have some spare slacks and underwear in your go-bag.”

Hotch cleared his throat. “I do.”

"Good. But I’m passing a new rule. No squirting at the office during business hours. It’s not worth the headache to clean up.”

Your boss pouted at you, puppy-dog eyes and everything, but you refused to budge. Finally, he gave in. “Okay, I won’t make you squirt before six o’clock at the office.”

"Good boy.” You hopped off of his desk and nodded to yourself when you didn’t wobble on your feet. “So, I’ll see you at six for a repeat performance?”

“God, yes. Except this time, I am gonna come in you and eat it out afterwards.”

"Dinner and dessert tonight? You spoil me, Aaron.”

“You spoil me, sweetheart.” Hotch dipped forward and pressed a kiss to your cheek, and you didn’t wrinkle your nose at the musk of pussy that clung to his skin like a second cologne. “Stay out of trouble, will you?”

“Baby, you are the trouble.”


End file.
